


Home is Behind

by HockeyShit



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ghost is also in this one, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 09:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HockeyShit/pseuds/HockeyShit
Summary: ‘A fortnight to Winterfell, how long to castle black? And what if they left already? How will you find them?’ The voice in his head sounded much like Sansa’s and Jon shook his head. Better her than Lord Stark, if he could see Jon abandoning his duty- the thought almost got Jon to change his mind. But no, he couldn't he wasn’t happy here, and it was hopeless. When he left the North could do what they wanted, they wouldn’t be tied to Daenerys anymore. Sansa could keep all her men home.





	Home is Behind

**Author's Note:**

> "Sawyer, you can stop titling fic with "Edge of Night" lyrics" Yeah but CAN I? Can I?   
> this is also not as happy as I had intended, it didn't end when I thought it was going to.

A month and a half, they had been marching south a for a month and a half. The news of Daenery’s trying to get to Dragonstone had reached them long ago, and it felt as if there was no hope. But still, they marched. Jon tried to keep up good appearances, he could see the moral slipping. They would think of something, they had to think of something. 

When Jon called a war council meeting, he realized the numbers of advisors were fewer and they had less experience than he had wanted. He ached to have Tormund by his side, the Wildling turned lover always seemed to ask the right questions. He didn’t always understand their war strategies, his questions made them think about the way they were doing things. 

Jon dropped his hand and realized, for the hundredth time that month, that there would be no wolf to push at his hand, no wolf begging for affection. He sighed and tried to turn his thoughts away from Tormund and Ghost, back to the war council meeting. But there was little to be said. No one had come up with any new ideas, their forces were split and couldn’t communicate. 

Jaime Lannister would have been helpful. It wasn’t the first time Jon had thought it, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time either. He had slowly gotten over the sick feeling he felt in his stomach when he wished the man was with him. One of the last commanders who had participated in the war of the five kings. 

“Robb would know what to do.” Jon wasn’t sure why he said it aloud. He needed these men to believe in him, talking about his dead brother was not likely a good way to do that, not after many of these men had made him king and he gave it away. 

“Aye, he might have lad, but he got himself killed as well.” Yohn Royce said and Jon just shook his head, ‘ _ most people get bloody murdered, they stay that way. _ ’ Jon tried not to think wistfully about Tormund, which only lead to thinking about if Robb had been the one to come back. The North would be in far better hands. But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered anymore. 

“He didn’t- whatever, you’re dismissed, we’ll meet tomorrow at midday.” Jon watched the men leave before he sat down on his bedroll in the corner. He put his head in his hands and could imagine Ghost sticking his face between his arms. Tormund dropping an arm around his shoulders. 

_ ‘You’ve got the North in you, the real North.’  _ It was the last thing Tormund had said to him. He could still hear it perfectly a month and a half later, he could feel the way Tormund gripped his shoulders when he said it. The way Tormund had held Jon close to say goodbye. They hadn’t ever talked about what was happening between them. Jon was always too scared to say anything about it, the man had daughters not much younger than him, and he couldn’t let anyone else know, he couldn't lose respect. 

_ ‘The real North.’  _ Jon stood up and pulled on his cloak. He shoved the top fur of his bedroll into a saddle bag and looked around. He’d need Long Claw, some food. He’d move faster on his own, he might only have a fortnight of travel ahead of him. 

‘A fortnight to Winterfell, how long to castle black? And what if they left already? How will you find them?’ The voice in his head sounded much like Sansa’s and Jon shook his head. Better her than Lord Stark, if he could see Jon abandoning his duty- the thought almost got Jon to change his mind. But no, he couldn't he wasn’t happy here, and it was hopeless. When he left the North could do what they wanted, they wouldn’t be tied to Daenerys anymore. Sansa could keep all her men home. 

“I don’t suppose you would- you going somewhere lad?” Jon nearly dropped the bag in his hand at Davos’ voice, he took a deep breath and turned to face the older man. He had become almost like a dad to Jon in the years they had worked together. Leaving him- he had to, it was unpleasant but he had to. 

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Davos said, but he didn’t give Jon any time to ask questions before leaving the tent. Jon worried that Davos was going to tell someone, Lord Royce maybe, the next in the chain of command.

Jon sat back down on his bedroll, the fur still in the saddle bag, it had been a foolish thought, of course, they wouldn’t let him leave. He had his duty, they’d say they needed him. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Tormund had seemed so close for a moment. 

“Are you dressed for the cold?” Davos was in the tent again, Jon wasn’t sure when he got there. 

“I-” Jon wasn’t sure what to say, he didn’t want to let himself believe that Davos was going to help him. 

“Get dressed for the cold lad, you’ll not want to freeze to death before you reach your Widling.” Jon blushed, he had thought they had hidden it well enough. Still, he did as he was told, if Davos was going to help him- Jon didn’t want to hope too much. 

Davos picked up Jon’s saddle bag and laughed, he managed to shove the fur into another already bursting saddle bag. It was like Davos had been packed for Jon, the man had said he was waiting for this, how long had he known? They worked quietly, Jon pulling on the warmest clothes he had the little bit of armor that he wanted to bring.  

“How long have you-” Jon picked at a loose thread on his cloak. He didn’t want to say it out loud, he didn’t want to admit that he was leaving his people behind. 

_ ‘You’ve got the North in you, the real North’ _

“When you left your wolf with him,” Davos said Jon’s thumb ran over the pommel of  _  Longclaw.  _ Ghost, he wondered what had become of Ghost. Was he still with Tormund, was he running free, maybe he had found a girl direwolf, maybe Ghost was going to be a dad. The thought made his heart clench. 

“Why are you helping me leave?” 

“You’ve been through more than most men, more than all men I’d say, You deserve this Jon.” Davos finally seemed content that he had stuffed as much as he could in the bags that would be going with Jon. 

Jon undid the scabbard around his waist getting ready to tie it to his saddle. He held the sword in his hand and then turned to Davos. 

“I think you should-” 

“I’ve no use for that lad, go start a family, pass it on to your sons.” Davos put his hand on Jon’s shoulder and they walked out into the night. 

“I can’t- sons I can’t-” 

“His daughters then. It don’t matter, you’ll need that more than I will.” Jon wasn’t sure why his horse was ready to go if Davos had told someone else, he didn’t want it to get out he was leaving, they would know soon enough. Would they follow him? He hoped not, he was deserting, Daenerys could have him killed. He’d just have to meet up with the free folk before they could catch him. 

Jon nearly had a leg over his horse when he stepped back down. Turning to Davos he pulled the man into a  hug. 

“Thank you, Thank you, you’ve done so much for me.” Davos just patted him on the back. 

“You’re a good man Jon Snow, this doesn’t change that.” Davos helped him into the saddle and then Jon was off. He made it past all their guards, he should be worried, but who were they guarding against from the north? It didn’t matter anymore, he didn’t have to worry about it anymore. Lord Royce could fret over guards. 

Jon rode until he felt himself falling asleep in the saddle. He tried to push further but he knew both he and his horse needed a break. He wasn’t sure if anyone would follow him, but he camped a mile from the Kings Road anyways. 

 

Jon could see Winterfell in the distance. He wanted badly to tell Sansa, Arya, and Bran about what he had done. But likely the men down south had sent a raven, they knew he had left. He hoped they didn’t have anyone out looking for him, he wanted to be caught, just to see his siblings again, but he needed to keep going north, he needed to make it to Castle Black before the free folk left. 

Jon spurred his horse on but he didn’t take his eyes off the castle. Maybe one day he could come back south, come visit, hopefully, his family would still be there. Hopefully, they would welcome him back. He watched the castle until he couldn't turn his head around far enough to watch it. 

_ ‘The real north’ _

He gave Winterfell one last look, stopping his horse, trying to commit it to memory, before he continued north. He had made his decision, he needed to get north as soon as he could. 

 

He heard the Free Folk before he saw them. When he was at the top of the hill he could laugh. He wasn’t sure why he had imagined the free folk would be camping in the castle, maybe some of them were, but most, it seemed, had set up camp outside the castle. He looked on with a smile. Before he nudged the horse into a Gallup. He was almost there, he could almost feel Tormund’s arms around him, the crisp air of winter north of the wall. The thought of spring or summer north of the wall excited Jon. 

Jon couldn’t help but think about his time with Mance as he entered the camp. This time, despite looking like an outsider, the men and women knew him. There were no stares that frightened him, not like there had been when he was just a boy. 

‘ _ You’ve got the north in you’  _

Maybe Mance had seen it too, or Ygritte. Maybe that’s why they had let him stay. He wasn’t sure where he was going. He dismounted and lead his horse through the outskirts of the camp The camp was not orderly like a military camp, people had set up wherever they had seen fit. Jon knew it should have frustrated him, having to walk around tents and fires, but he couldn't stop smiling. 

“Tormund is that way.” Someone said and Jon blushed before he realized that he didn’t have to worry anymore. That there were no politics on the line, he and Tormund could do what they liked, no reason to hide. 

“Pretty- Jon!” Jon didn’t have time to turn around before he was tackled. Jon laughed when he realized it wasn’t Tormund who had tackled him, it was Ghost. 

“Hey boy, I’m sorry I- you didn’t think I’d actually leave you did you?” Jon wondered, there was a time when he thought that Ghost was part of him. It was the time he spent North of the wall, it was what made him believe the Wolf belonged north. 

Jon was hulled off his feet and into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Jon, I didn’t think-” Jon wasn’t sure if Tormund’s voice was breaking up because he was crying or because his face was pressed into Jon’s hair. 

“You're the one who told me you never knew.” Tormund finally let go of the hug, but only enough to hold Jon at an arm's length. 

“I didn’t want you to be sad.” Jon shook his head and reached up to kiss Tormund. 

The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as Jon wanted it too. If he had his way he wouldn’t stop kissing Tormund until they left to head north. But Tormund pulled away, looking confused. 

“You don’t like kissing when there are people around.” Tormund raised an eyebrow and Jon found himself blushing again. 

“I’m one of the free folk now, I can kiss my lover when there are people around if I want.” Tormund smiled a smile that rivaled the one he had at the feast after that Night King was defeated. 

“The girls miss you, come see them.” Tormund kept his arm around Jon’s shoulder grinning. 

“You talk about them like they are children.” Tormund just laughed leading Jon to a tent less than half the size of the one he had been camped in not a month ago. There was no furniture, just three distinct piles of furs, weapons were piled in the corner. Jon had a hard time thinking of  _ Longclaw _ laying in a heap in the corner, he didn’t have much of a chance to think about it though, Jon’s scabbard was the first thing Tormund took off. He set the sword in the corner, gently, like he knew what it meant to Jon. 

“I thought you said I was going to meet the girls,” Jon said, he could see the playful look in Tormund’s eyes. He was more than happy to have sex with Tormund, but if the man’s daughters were likely to show up he would be more inclined to wait. 

“I heard you were back, the whole camp was talking about you, I told the girls not to come back to the tent until tonight. You’re mine for now Little Crow.”

“I’m not a crow anymore.” Jon protested, he wasn’t sure what the kingdom was going to do about the Nights Watch, he and Sam were the last living members, Sam has a family and Jon, Jon was a wildling now, the Nights Watch was all but relegated to stories. 

“You’re my crow Jon Snow, you’ll always be my crow.” 

 

“I’m nervous.” Jon didn’t think he would ever be standing here again. Looking out at Winterfell. It had been years, nine or ten, he wasn’t sure, Tormund said it was nine, but it felt like more than that. 

“They are your family.” They stood there looking for a bit longer. “I don’t have to come.” 

“No, it’s not that, it’s not you.” Jon had not even thought about leaving Tormund behind when he went to visit his family. He would have let Tormund stay if wanted to stay north, but he would never have asked the man to stay behind. He’d forgotten he ought to be nervous about bringing Tormund to Winterfell as his lover. 

“Then what is it?” They had started walking again, it was a long walk, even though the castle seemed so close. 

“I left my men, I’m a deserter. You know what happens to deserters.” 

“You think your family will resent you for that?” 

“I don’t know.” Jon couldn’t help but think of Sansa, she would see it as a betrayal, and Arya, would Arya understand? His sisters had spent years and years after their father had died trying to come back to Winterfell, would they understand why he had to leave? Would they want to meet him? Bran must know what he was up to, had he told them?

Standing in the great hall felt weird. The walls around him felt more constrictive than they ever had. Was there really a time, even as a child, when he thought this room was the biggest room in the whole world? Ten years in the wild, with no stone walls around him had changed his perspective. 

He no longer felt welcome, this room had been privy to some of his best memories but now, he didn’t just feel like a visitor, he felt like he might be a prisoner. He wished they could have met in the Godswood. 

“It’s true.” Jon turned around at the whisper and saw Arya running at him. He pulled his sister into a hug and felt tears fall down his cheek. “You’re really here.” 

Jon set her back on her feet before nodding. “I’m here.” 

“Jon…” Sansa had tears in her eyes. Jon took the two steps towards her to pull her into a hug. 

“We thought we would never see you again,” Arya said she clutched to Jon’s side so Jon put an arm around her. 

“I’m sorry, I hope, I don’t know how things went over I-” 

It was then that Bran came back into the room. His sisters had aged, but Bran, bran seemed to have aged both twice as fast and half as fast as they had. It must have been the three-eyed raven. 

“Much happened while you were gone.” Jon frowned at that, he didn’t have time to say anything before Sansa started talking. 

“We’ll have someone ready your chambers and-” 

“I’m not staying.” Jon didn’t want to watch the looks of hurt fall on his sibling’s face but he watched anyway. This was the price he had to pay. 

“Jon, why?” it was Arya this time. Jon could almost imagine the little girl he had left behind when he went to the wall. 

“I- Tormund and I, we can live the life of lovers in the North, Ghost has room to run as far as he wants, to hunt what he wants. I belong up there.” 

“You don’t.” Sansa was whispering as if talking too loudly about this would break something. 

“I belong in the North, The real North.

“Damn it Jon, This is the North and, and we’ve told you, we don’t  _ care _ who your parents are, you are a stark you’re our brother-” 

“He’s right.” Jon turned to Bran, shocked that he understood what Jon meant. 

“I thought you said- his parents-” 

“Are Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, but the blood of the first men is in him, it’s stronger in him.” Now Arya was crying. Jon pulled both his sisters into a hug. He wished there was an easy answer, a way to keep them from crying and live a life where he felt he belonged. 

When they pulled apart Jon took a step back and then into Tormund’s side, letting the older man put an arm around his shoulder. Sansa smiled, it was full of tears, and still looked sadder than anything else but it was a smile. 

“Come on, we have a lot to tell you, and we want to hear your side of it too.” Sansa looked to Tormund “you too, seeing as your family now.” 

Jon followed Sansa, he wasn’t sure where they were going, he thought he would never forget his way around the castle, it wasn’t until they were walking out a door into the open air that he realized they were headed to the Godswood. Somehow Arya had managed to find a basket of food and a blanket so they could sit on the ground of the Godswood and talk. 

Leaving was going to be hard, but he would, when Sansa started talking about Gendry taking kings landing he knew, this was not a kingdom he belonged in anymore. He would spend a few days with his siblings but then, after teary goodbyes, he would go back north again, where he belonged. 

 

Jon stood on the hill and watched the castle. Tormund stood quietly next to him, watched with him. Jon wondered if Tormund knew this was the last time Jon would see this castle, his siblings. The man would promise that he could visit, he was free, he could do what he wanted. But it took too long, it was difficult, Jon knew he would not come back again. He hadn’t told his sisters, he hadn’t realized he knew until he stood looking back at the castle. 

Memories ran through his mind, growing up in that castle, fighting for that castle, defending that castle, and now he was leaving it behind, forever. The thought caused his eyes to tear up. 

Jon wasn’t sure how long they stood there, eventually, Tormund put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll follow you where ever you fly my Crow.” Jon shook his head, he didn’t belong here anymore. He did once, he hadn’t realized it, but now, this was no longer his home. 

“North, we go north, we go  _ home _ .” Jon almost expected Tormund to make a joke, about how Jon had finally come around about where The North was. Instead, he just nodded.

“Home then,” Tormund said reaching a hand out for Jon, they couldn't hold hands and walk for long, but for now, it was was what he needed. He took Tormunds hand and turned North. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @ Wolfdaddynedstark


End file.
